


Fever Pitch

by anniehall



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, But there is Quidditch, Gerard obviously teaches potions, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Or the Drew Barrymore film, Scott is obviously a Hufflepuff, Slow Build, This is not related to the Colin Firth film
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniehall/pseuds/anniehall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is good at potions, Allison is good at flying, Derek is good at everything, Isaac is surprisingly astute and Scott is incomprehensibly a prefect.</p><p>Rating subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Well I guess this is it then. The Mayans were right. I’ve always said you place too little faith in the ancient art of random guesswork and bullshitting, and now I’ve been proven correct. The world has officially taken its final bow, and will be exiting stage left any minute now.”

“Stiles, you’re overreacting” Scott frowned.

“He’s right you know, your hyperbole is reaching new heights”, interjected Michelle, a petite blond from their year. Scott’s frown furrowed into an expression of confusion, until Isaac leaned over and whispered in his ear (presumably to give a brief definition of ‘hyperbole’).

“I am absolutely not overreacting. You shall be forced to live a trapped life of servitude, obedience and piety, doomed to distance yourself from those closest to you or betray them to the ever looming authorities. Never again will you know the joy of humiliating Jackson Whittemore. Gone are your days of taunting Professor Harris. From now on, you will see the inside of McGonagall’s office only when you deliver status reports.”

“Piety?” Questioned Michelle's best friend Beth. “I’m not sure prefects are required to attend church or anything...”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT BETH.”

 

Stiles couldn’t understand why noone else was as devastated as he over the shiny new badge currently clutched in Scott’s clammy left palm. He hadn’t spent his first four years at Hogwarts honing their reputation as the finest pranksters to grace the halls since the Weasley brothers for nothing. There simply could not be a prefect present for the spectacular acts of mischief and hooliganism he had planned for 5th year, and yet without Scott he could never pull them off. Besides, he didn’t want to. Stiles had never been one to hog the glory, and had so far been thrilled to share his low level infamy with his best friend (and, to a lesser extent, his fellow Hufflepuffs currently sharing their carriage).

“Has anyone seen Greenberg yet? I think I’ve figured out a plan to force him to switch beds with me this year.”

Stiles ignored Isaac’s horribly unsubtle attempt to change the subject, and continued his impassioned monologue on the cruelties of school hierarchies, this time with added hand gestures. Much to the relief of his friends, however, he was interrupted by the appearance of a dark, handsome head poking round the carriage door.

“McCall? You’re late, we need you in the front carriage.” The disgustingly perfect features of Derek Hale scrunched into a scowl as he took in Scott’s appearance. “Haven’t you changed yet? You should be in your robes. Hurry up.” Hale’s head disappeared abruptly as he swept towards the front of the train, followed by his fellow Gryffindor prefects. 

“Derek Hale is head boy this year?” Queried Beth.

“So it would seem. Possibly the least surprising plot development I’ve witnessed since the last time I watched a Jennifer Aniston film”, commented Stiles. “More importantly, Scott should be made aware that the second he pins that badge to his robes I will be disowning him as a disciple like the Judas he is.”

“I haven’t sent you to your crucifixion just yet Stiles, please contain yourself” replied Scott, gathering his things and standing up to go change. “I’ll be back soon”. He looked worried. “Hale’s quite scary, isn’t he?”

“Don’t panic, I hear prefect meetings are a doddle. Besides, Rachel Clearwater is head girl this year and she’s nice. And Der is more intimidating than scary” said Michelle encouragingly, a slightly glazed half smile sliding onto her face at the sound of Hale’s name.

“Der? _Der?_ ” Stiles scowled. “Since when were you b.f.f.f.?”

 

“Noone else has seen Pineapple Express, Stiles” explained Scott when his friend looked slightly put out by the blank expressions he was greeted with. He squeezed the taller boys shoulder as he made his way out of the carriage to change into his robes. Leaning down, he whispered some comforting words about the power of friendship and his new ability to deduct house points from Jackson, before leaving to meet his fellow prefects, heart pounding.

  
\------------  


The towers and turrets of Hogwarts were creeping into view by the time Scott returned to his friends’ carriage, heart rate racing just as fast as it had been at his exit. The nervous expression he had left with however had been replaced, and he burst into the room with a broad smile and arms flung so wide he smacked Isaac in the face.

“ALLISON ARGENT IS A PREFECT TOO AND WE’RE GOING TO PATROL TOGETHER AND GO TO MEETINGS TOGETHER AND FALL IN LOVE AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND THE WORLD IS DEFINITELY NOT ENDING BEFORE ALL THOSE THINGS HAPPEN SO FUCK YOU STILES”.

 

Isaac, Michelle, Beth and Greenberg (who had joined the carriage halfway through the journey and immediately warned Isaac he wasn’t switching beds) all reacted to Scott’s announcement with the appropriate noises of encouragement. Stiles offered a broad grin and a fist bump, seemingly pleased for his friend’s potential love life. If he was more excited by the inevitable distraction Allison would create, (and the realization that Scott was most likely going to be the Worst Prefect Ever and hence allow his wicked schemes to continue unchecked), Scott didn’t need to know that. 

For the rest of the journey and the carriage ride up to the castle Stiles chatted animatedly with Scott about the wonder that was Allison Argent: Quidditch prodigy, straight O student, and now prefect. Granddaughter to the most terrifying potions master Hogwarts had ever known, daughter to their current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and object of Scott McCall’s affections since she had been selected as beater for the Gryffindor team halfway through their third year. 

When Scott had made the Hufflepuff team as Chaser last year there had been similar optimism about their ‘inevitable epic love’, which Scott had known for 100% fact would blossom as they faced each other on the pitch. Rather than longing airborn gazes, however, the pair had exchanged minimal words and several bruises. From his excellent view as the school’s resident commentator Stiles had observed his friends increasingly forlorn gameface with sympathy. By the end of fourth year Scott’s spirits had been dampened to the point of extinction by his lack of progress, so he was happy to see his friend bouncing around like a drunken tigger once again. 

Besides, he would have his own Romeo and Juliet storyline as soon as his plans for Jackson were put in place. There was no way in hell Lydia would stay with that jerk after they had successfully destroyed his smooth exterior, and when everything fell apart between the two Slytherins Stiles would be there to pick up the pieces. Stilinskis knew how to plan ahead.

  
\------------  


The Great Hall was adorned beautifully with all four house colours, the enchanted sky glittering with stars and hundreds of candles casting a soft glow over the feast. Making their way to their usual seats next to their fellow 5th years, Scott and Stiles glanced across the melee of young wizards and witches to the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables respectively.

Stiles hid his disappointment well when he saw Lydia and Jackson seated hand in hand, as they had been for the past two years. The good looking pair were surrounded by their adoring entourage, most of whom Stiles had long since dismissed as stuck up, arrogant and generally completely unbearable. He exchanged a quick smile with 6th year Danny, who was seated next to Jackson despite having so far shown no sign of being a complete wanker (that he had observed).  
`  
Reaching his standard spot, Stiles seated himself between Scott and Jessica, another 5th year Hufflepuff. He was pleased to see her, and was halfway through finding out about her summer activities, (admittedly heavy metal festivals weren’t exactly his cup of tea, but it always pays to have an open mind), when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat at the front of the hall. After the usual veiled threats, forest related warnings and motivational references to the house cup, the headmistress wished them all an excellent year and introduced the new head boy and girl. Rachel Clearwater, a well liked if slightly dull 7th year Ravenclaw who’s round face and jolly smile inspired confidence and trust; and Derek Hale, the latest in a long line of Hales who’s good looks and freakish academic ability had led them to a number of senior roles within the Ministry of Magic and quasi-celebrity status.

Whilst the majority of magical people seemed to fall under the spell (ho ho ho) of the adored family and their ridiculous cheekbones, Stiles remained suspicious of the lot of them. As senior undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Peter Hale appeared frequently on the pages of the Daily Prophet, flashing a straight white smile. It did an efficient job of distracting from any current questionable policies the ministry were entertaining, and he was generally considered the obvious choice to take over the top job once Shacklebolt retired. 

The most recent Hale addition to the Ministry HQ was Derek’s older sister (and former head girl), Laura. She currently held a prominent position within the Department of Health, and had caused a stir recently with her proposed reforms to the treatment of werewolves and other magical creatures. Stiles had been in his third year when she had joined the Ministry straight out of Hogwarts, and had done what he considered to be an excellent job of hiding his lingering crush on the older girl from his friends. It was understandable really, he told himself. She was on her way to having his dream job as head of the department, and seemed to share his philosophy towards fair treatment across the board. He didn’t trust her of course, political dynasties were rarely beacons of morality and fair play, and the nepotism which earned her the job was a sore spot. Nothing wrong with admiring a good dark hair/green eyes/excellent jawline combination though. 

A combination, incidentally, echoed eerily in the face standing before them now. 

 

Stiles knew plenty about Derek Hale regardless of never having spoken with him. Despite his personal skepticism over the boys lineage and apparent incapacity for laughter, the general consensus of Hogwarts (both the student population and staff) was that Derek Hale Is Flawless. 

Derek Hale took more classes than any other NEWT student, yet maintained impeccable grades at all times. Derek Hale had been captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team since he was in 5th year, and had never lost the cup. Derek Hale had been awarded a ‘Special Award for Services to the School’ in his fourth year, and speculation as to why was rife amongst every house outside of Gryffindor. (Stiles had to respectfully disagree with Michelle’s claim that ‘his face’ constituted a special service to the school. Ditto ‘his abs’.) Derek Hale frequently appeared on the socialite pages of Witch Weekly as a result of his families unparalleled networking abilities, and was the hot favourite to win their ‘Most Charming Smile’ award after he turned 18 later this year, despite the fact Stiles had never observed an expression remotely resembling happiness cross his face. Derek Hale coached first years in Quidditch in his spare time (WHAT SPARE TIME, that’s what Stiles wanted to know).

In short, Derek Hale was not an actual human being. He was a fictional character from a dodgy romance novel and Stiles didn’t buy into his persona of perfection one. little. bit.

 

“Stiles? Stiles are you listening to me? What do you have first thing Monday. I have Muggle Studies which is great because I’m really good at Muggle Studies and I think it will get my week off to a good start, you know? Because no one wants to, like, overthink on a Monday morning and Professor Morrell is totally chilled so if I’m hungover or whatever and have to skip class I don’t think she’ll fail me. Do you think she gives out detention for that stuff? I’ve never seen her give out detention but then she loves me so she’s always nice. I am honestly great at Muggle Studies though so I guess it’s not too surprising. Hey did you know she really likes Star Wars? We totally bonded over that and I did an amazing Chewbacca impression and she laughed and STILES”

“Of course you’re good at Muggle Studies, Scott. You have an unfair advantage. Getting an ‘O’ doesn’t count when your mum is a muggle. Why do you even take that class”.

“Um, because I’m getting an ‘O’? My grades were killer at the end of last year man, I’m totally gonna ace the O.W.L.s”

“Anyone could have killer grades if they had your schedule” Stiles argues, leaning over and grabbing Scott’s newly distributed timetable. “None of these are even subjects. Muggle Art? What is that Scott? Earth Magic? GHOUL STUDIES? And honestly who takes Herbology, you are a ridiculous person and a joke of wizard.”

Scott’s kicked puppy expression forced Stiles to slap him on the shoulder and promise he was only joking, before glancing over his own timetable. He shares only the core subjects and Divination with Scott, much to his chagrin. Divination was obviously a subject for fools and children, but as every other 5th year Hufflepuff seemed to love the smell of incense and tea leaves Stiles had conceded and agreed to take the class with his friends. At least it provided him with ample mocking material, and he did an uncanny Trelawney impression which would be wasted if he didn’t attend lessons.

The most intimidating slot on Stiles’ schedule was Potions - twice weekly and away from all his friends. At the end of last year Stiles had been at the heart of an extended disagreement between the Headmistress and Professor Argent, the potions master, following a careers chat he had with McGonagall. As an aspiring healer, Stiles had always prioritized Potions despite his dislike of his teacher. His hard work paid off at the end of his fourth year, when his results had been impressive enough to persuade their aging head that Stiles should be permitted to sit his N.E.W.T a year early and partake in classes with 6th year students to catch up. 

In the end it had been allowed, and Stiles was genuinely looking forward to furthering his abilities. Potions had always come naturally to him, and he knew he was already at N.E.W.T level from his recreational work on healing spells and salves alone. His never ending clumsiness had, it turns out, been a blessing in disguise, and a young Stiles had mastered most of the basic healing potions before the age of 12 when forced to mend his own broken bones and grazes at home. His mother had helped him as a child, and when she fell ill he went out of his way to explore potential cures and potions to ease her pain. Following her death, his father’s muggle remedies had seemed futile and juvenile, and Stiles had spent the years since exploring the potential of magic as a cure to all sickness. 

 

Whilst learning more was a source of excitement, however, it was hard to be enthusiastic about the classes themselves. Gerard Argent was notoriously harsh, and had unfortunately never warmed to Stiles’ obviously charming and entertaining sense of humour. As a result he had found himself the subject of unfair victimisation and bullying at the hands of his teacher for most of his school career. 

Scott argued that their second year prank involving an explosion of bubotuber pus hadn’t helped matters, and even Stiles had to admit that neither had their third year incident which saw all the beetles in the supply cupboard revived from death long enough to perform Catherine Zeta Jones’ dance from Chicago. Professor Argent just had no appreciation for the genius of Bob Fosse. (As it turned out, neither did the vast majority of the Hogwarts student body. Stiles’ pop culture references veered into the obscure even amongst the few muggle friends he had retained from his childhood, and amongst wizards he frequently found himself woefully misunderstood).

 

An impressive soup spillage courtesy of Isaac brought Stiles’ wandering mind back to the present moment. As he studied his schedule more carefully he realized he not only had the potions master’s constant taunts and endless detentions to look forward to, but some of his least favourite company. He would be attending Potions with the 6th year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. 

Which meant Jackson Whittemore.  
 __  
Marvellous.  



	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be quicker - it's been a busy week! Hopefully it will also be longer and include actual plot development (yay!) All feedback/comments much appreciated :3

The Divination tower had always been stiflingly warm and disgustingly twee, and Stiles was disappointed if unsurprised to find the summer break had done nothing to improve conditions in his least favourite classroom. Following a sweat inducing hike up approximately 18 thousand stairs the last thing one should be faced with is boiling tea and highly perfumed air, and yet here he was. 

Whilst the professor droned on in the corner about the power of the mind or some such drivel, Stiles split his attention between struggling to breathe, pretending to examine the dregs of Scott’s tea and desperately scanning his brain for a pun or joke about ‘third eyes’ he had yet to exhaust. He had almost figured out the best phrasing for a Mystic Meg reference when Scott’s enthusiastic voice broke his concentration.

“Well?? What do you think?” His wide eyes drooped as he saw Stiles’ distant expression, his smile faltering. “I’m doomed aren’t I.”

“Are you kidding?” His friend replied. “Unless by ‘doomed’ you mean condemned to married life with Allison.”

“REALLY?!”

“Really. I’m pretty sure I can see her face AND a wedding ring in these bad boys.”

“Wow. Anything else? What if you spin the cup round?”

Stiles rotated the teacup and tilted his head, his face scrunched in a show of concentration before blinking rapidly and letting his jaw drop slightly.

“WHAT IS IT?”

“Dude. It says here you have a powerful destiny.” Stiles pauses for dramatic effect, Scott’s wide eyes fixated on his friends face. “But wait... I’m not sure that’s a wedding ring. In fact... I think I can make out an inscription.”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Yes fucking way. It’s not in a language I recognize, but wait. Let me concentrate. I’m getting a strong feeling that this is the only ring. Like the one? And it has some kind of power over other pieces of fine jewellery? Other rings for example? I’m pretty sure it could rule over other rings.” 

Stiles placed the teacup on the table and turned his chair to face Scott, his brow furrowed and jaw set.

“Scott McCall. Do you or have you ever felt a strong compulsion to visit Mordor.”

Scott scowled.

“Also, do you have any very short friends who could accompany you on such a quest.”

“If I’m Frodo, you are totally Samwise Gamgee.”

Stiles sighed. “Must I always play the sidekick?”.

 

The boys are interrupted by a tutting sound from across the table, where Michelle, Beth and Jessica had finished comparing tea leaves and had been whispering conspiratorially whilst observing their exchange. 

“You’re very unfair to tease Scott that way Stiles” scolds Beth. “You know how much he cares about Allison, you mustn’t make fun of him for falling in love”.

Stiles raised one eyebrow and looked to Jessica, who he could generally rely on to provide a voice of sanity. She simply smirked and shook her head slightly, before turning to Scott.

“You know Scott, we could help you. Provide some tips and tricks, put in a good word for you. Greenberg, you have arithmancy with Allison this year right?” She asked.

“Yeah!” Greenberg enthused. “I could pass her notes or tell her stories about how great you are, and how you’re helping me study because you’re so smart.”

“If you think really hard, I bet you could come up with some great gifts for Greenberg to pass on for you” added Jessica. “Something really personal that shows you understand her.”

Stiles glares at his (former) friend, before hissing at her across the table.

“Think really hard? You’re actively encouraging him to spend _more_ time thinking about Allison now? You’re aware there are only 24 hours in a day right.”

“Yes, but daylight savings is coming up. He’ll gain an hour!” She grinned victoriously.

_“That’s not really how it works.”_

 

Meanwhile, Scott was bestowing thanks upon Beth and Greenberg. 

“You’d really do that for me? This is so cool. We can be like a supergroup, working together for the greater good.”

“Fighting the fight for true love and happy ever afters” Enthused Greenberg. Next to him, Isaac rolled his eyes so hard they were in danger of leaving his head altogether and inched his chair away slightly, his movements mirrored by Stiles. They exchanged a solemn look of solidarity, before shuffling their chairs subtly round the table until they had maneuvered themselves a space next to each other..

Isaac grabbed Stiles’ arm and whispered in his ear eagerly.

“Got anything big planned to celebrate our return to Hogwarts? Exploding food? Singing goblins? You should definitely hire another McGonagall lookalike, that was hilarious.”

“A great entertainer never relies on old tricks, my dear friend” whispered Stiles in return. “I have yet to iron out the kinks, but I must say all this talk of signs and omens has been somewhat inspiring.” 

He pauses, glancing around the table at his friends who are still deep in discussion. 

“Can I trust you, Isaac?” He mutters, brown eyes locked with Isaac’s blue. “You must understand that regardless of circumstance, we CANNOT tell Scott ANYTHING.”

Isaac simply grinned, before grabbing his friends hand and shaking it firmly. “Stiles old bud, your secret is safe with me.” Stiles smiled back, and leaned closer as he quietly began to explain his loose plans for this years back-to-school prank.

 

After what felt like an eternity, Trelawney finally announced the end of class and permitted them to leave. Stiles heaved a sigh of relief before gathering his things quickly, shoving quills, parchment, a teacup and some leaves into his bag surreptitiously. Isaac gave him a knowing look and slipped his own cup into his bag, grabbing the massive teapot in the middle of the table before Stiles could stop him.

A surprisingly strong hand gripped Isaac’s wrist as he lifted the teapot from the table, and he looked guiltily up to meet the penetrative gaze of his professor glaring down at him. Stiles threw an unimpressed look his way before grabbing his bag with one hand, Scott with the other and making a dash for the exit. 

They were the first out of the classroom, but Stiles was taking no chances and fled down the stairs leading to the rest of the castle, dragging Scott behind him. In his haste he failed to see a looming shape blocking his way as he turned onto the third floor corridor, and was startled when he slammed into a solid wall of warm flesh and neatly pressed robes. 

Stiles forced his eyes upwards to meet the stoney face staring down at him, and felt a small part of him die when he realized the victim of his inadvertent attack was none other than their new head boy, the esteemed Derek Hale. Although perhaps angry Derek Hale would be a more appropriate title in this moment.

Behind him, Stiles heard Isaac’s voice and assumed he must have caught them up.

“You realize Trelawney pretty much requires a hovering spell to help her move, right? Or one of those muggle zimmer frames? There’s no need to go sprinting through corridors and causing injury to Gryffindors.”

Stiles took a step back, his eyes sliding down from Derek’s face to take in his now slightly rumpled appearance, stiff posture and expensive messenger bag, before tilting his head upwards once more to examine his expression (which unfortunately had grown no less disgusted. In fact quite the opposite.)

“My deepest apologies Mr. Darcy.” Stiles bowed slightly to emphasize his point. “I hate to be the catalyst for further angry brooding in your already packed schedule of frowning and judging others.”

A giggling sound forced Stiles to look away from the broad shoulders of Derek Hale (despite his bold words, he couldn’t quite gather the courage to meet his eye). Only then did he realize Derek was not alone, but rather accompanied by his usual (equally intimidating) sidekicks - Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd. 

Erica tossed her perfectly styled golden locks as she leaned over and whispered something into Derek’s ear, all the while keeping her gaze firmly on Stiles. He felt his face grow hot and had a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, but held firm and hoped he looked suitably unaffected. As Erica leaned away from Derek he looked at her, seemingly confused for a moment, before giving Stiles a penetrative stare and storming past him up the staircase. Erica giggled again and followed, Boyd closely in tow.

 

Stiles followed them with his eyes before turning back to his friends, feeling humiliated although he wasn’t sure why.

“Who’s Mr. Darcy?” Asked Isaac.

Scott looked at him pityingly before exchanging a knowing look with his best friend, obviously pleased he had understood the reference.

“Are you Bridget Jones in this scenario? You were pretty clumsy. But I’m not sure he likes you just the way you are.”

Stiles let out an exasperated sigh. “No one has read Austen here? Really?” He adjusted his bag strap and headed towards his next class, muttering quietly to himself. 

“Unbelievable.”

  
\------------  


The Hufflepuff Common Room was packed that Saturday, with the body heat of the full student population rendering the blazing fire even less necessary than usual.

“Its September. Why do the house elves hate us? Is this because we posted a public announcement detailing the location of the kitchens in our second year? Must we continue to pay for past mistakes?” Moaned Stiles, as he contemplated how many more items of clothing he could remove whilst remaining socially acceptable. “Do you think shirts are a public requirement nowadays? I mean, it is 2012. Rihanna never wears shirts.”

“Not so much a requirement as a recommendation. Particularly in your case.” Replied Scott, who had fashioned a one person fan using only four quills, a foot long stretch of parchment and an adapted hovering spell. Stiles was mildly impressed.

“Given my enviable physique I can only assume such a recommendation is for the benefit of my many admirers, who may struggle to contain themselves around such stimulation as my exposed body”, he replied, eyeing Scott’s fan and pouring himself yet another glass of water.

Scott appeared momentarily distracted, his eyes widening and glazing slightly. Stiles was momentarily concerned for his friend before the cause of his mental vacation became apparent.

“Do you reckon it’s this hot in the Gryffindor common room?” he asked dreamily. 

“Even if it is, I’m quite sure Allison will keep all of her clothes on”.

“Usually when she’s hot, she ties her hair up so it’s off her face and neck. You can really see her jawline when she does that. She has such great bone structure. I wonder if we had kids if they would inherit my jaw or hers. I hope they’d get her cheekbones....”

This continued for some time, but Stiles stopped listening and let his mind wander. He wondered if strong cheekbones was a Gryffindor requirement.

“Stiles, are you listening? I need you to help me think of the perfect gift for Allison. I’m planning on little things for the next month or so, ramping up to something really impressive just before Halloween. Then I can ask her to the dance. Will you help me?”

“Sorry, but as you can see I’m very busy working right now”. Stiles points at the text book in front of him as evidence.

“Your book is upside down. And we don’t have homework yet, it’s the first week back. Also, you don’t take Ancient Runes. No one takes Ancient Runes, it’s pointless. Where did you even get that?”

Giving up, Stiles pushed the heavy book away from him and finally met his friends gaze. 

“You know, I do technically have work to do” he sighed. “Gerard has already set us a massive assignment and we have a surprise test at some point over the next two weeks to ‘make sure everyone is up to speed’. Which is so obviously code for making sure Stiles is up to speed. He could at least be a bit subtle about not wanting me there, don’t you think?”

Scott looked sympathetic and stopped talking about Allison, because contrary to frequent evidence Scott is actually a good friend. “How was potions anyway?” He asked. “It’s good that you managed to get through your first class without punching Jackson in the face, honestly I expected worse.”

“Just barely” Stiles admitted. “There was a terrifying moment when it looked like Gerard was going to force us to partner up, just to spite me. He had that awful smug look on his face and kept talking about how we had such a history together and that was a great foundation for sharing a cauldron or some nonsense.” Stiles shuddered at the memory.

“Luckily, Danny came to my rescue. Said we had worked together in the past and made a good team.” A small smile crossed his face before he continued. “Total lie of course, but Gerard bought it thank god. So now I only have to deal with Whittemore from a distance. Besides, Danny’s pretty cool and he knows his stuff. So hopefully it will all work out.”

Stiles realized he had been fiddling with his shirt buttons and avoiding his friends gaze without really knowing why, and glanced up to see Isaac had seemingly appeared at their table at some point over the past few minutes and was looking at him knowingly.

“Danny’s pretty cool, huh?” Said the blonde.

“Well, yeah. I mean as Slytherins go. Why are you looking at me like that? You like Danny.”

“Oh yeah, everyone likes Danny, what’s not to like.” Isaac paused. “Is he still with his boyfriend? Tom or whatever his name was?”

Stiles felt himself blushing, although again he couldn’t pinpoint why. Or was deliberately avoiding pinpointing why.

“No, actually. They broke up over summer.”

“Huh” Isaac said, one eyebrow elevated slightly. “Well. That’s a shame.”

“Yeah....” Stiles murmured, fidgeting slightly in his seat. “It really is hot in here”.

At this point Scott seemed to take pity on his friend, and thankfully changed the subject.

“So, whats the plan for the back to school prank?” he grinned. “Don’t tell me there isn’t one, I’ve seen you two conspiring.”

Stiles had to think fast, and felt a slight pang of sadness that he couldn’t share his plans with his friend. At least, not yet.

“I’ve been looking into behavior control spells for sea creatures. I can’t believe no one has ever fully utilized the massive great squid just hanging out right next to the castle, can you?”

Scott looked excited, and Stiles could practically see the tiny cogs turning behind his bright puppy dog eyes.

“Do you reckon we could get it to spell out ‘I love you Allison’ with his tentacles???”

Stiles did not dignify him with an answer.

“You know Derek Hale knows a lot about the Giant Squid” added Scott as soon as it became apparent he would not be using any large water dwelling creatures to woo his one true love. “He did some kind of project on it for extra credit in Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t trust that guy. He was hanging around outside the potions room after we had class this week. It was very distracting.”

“How can you be distracted after class? What were you distracted from? You must have seen him when you left, not during lessons. Why would you care?”

“That’s not the point Scott! Anyone who lurks in dungeons and voluntarily spends one on one time with Gerard Argent is probably at least 62% evil.”

Scott laughed and shook his head. “Don’t be silly. He was probably scheduling when he could use the room. You know he tutors first years in potions after classes finish?”

“Um, why.”

“Extra credit” said Scott, as if it were obvious.

Stiles stared at him blankly. “How much extra credit does one guy need, Jesus. It’s actually disgusting how much work he does. It’s obviously not good for him.”

“How do you know? You’ve never even spoken to the guy.” Interjected Isaac.

“Maybe not, but he looks angry. And tortured. Don’t you think he looks tortured?”

“Can’t say I’ve thought about it all that much, buddy.”

Stiles was uncharacteristically pleased when Greenberg made an appearance at this point, as Isaac had regained his earlier knowing expression as he listened to Stiles. It didn’t suit him. At all.

Greenberg talked at Scott, something dull about Quidditch practice, and the pair excused themselves leaving Stiles alone with Isaac.

“So, you gonna be working one on one with Danny a lot this term?” Asked Isaac, using his best innocent face. Stiles grabbed his things and made an excuse.

As he was hurrying away from the common room and towards the library to work on his Potions assignment, he found himself thinking about Derek Hale and his tutoring. How could one person balance so many different things? Stiles barely managed to remember when to turn up to class.

It was all very suspicious, he concluded. No one needed to work that hard or achieve that much. Clearly something was afoot, and Hale had some nefarious goal in mind. Or perhaps he was cheating his way through school. Or he was an imposter, a much older academic sent to Hogwarts to raise the grade point average and inspire dedication in his fellow students.

He _was_ suspiciously well built for a 17 year old.

Stiles reached the library and headed to an empty desk, dumping his things. He was just going to have to give this some serious thought, he concluded, and began mentally examining every tidbit of information about Derek Hale he had acquired over the past five years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay - this chapter is pretty long so hopefully that makes up for it.
> 
> The prank kind of got away from me in this one, I'm not sure how likely such an elaborate plan really is. But Stiles is resourceful ok.
> 
> All comments etc much appreciated :)

“But Batman, Stiles. I can’t believe you’re arguing _against_ Bruce Wayne.

“I’m not against Bruce Wayne. I fully appreciate Bruce Wayne and all of his incarnations, including Clooney. I’m just saying Marvel has countless characters who are just as good, and as a whole their continuity and vastly superior film franchises means they beat out DC!”

“BAT. MAN.”

Stiles and Danny had been carrying out their disagreement in hushed tones, but Danny’s final outburst drew the attention of several fellow students surrounding them. Awkwardly they smiled and waved at the judgmental faces directed their way, and leaned slightly closer together as they continued to whisper.

“In all honesty, I’m just happy someone in this school is able to at least _name_ all of the Avengers. Agree to disagree?” Stiles thought he was being pretty generous all things considered, and was almost sorry to give up the debate with his new friend.

Danny flashed him a warm smile, and handed him the flobberworm he had been chopping to add to their cauldron. Their hands brushed briefly as he passed the bowl over, and Stiles felt his face grow warm. Worried that his blush would translate into visibly rosy cheeks, he was almost glad to be interrupted by the familiar nasal tones of his least favourite student.

“Do you have any self awareness whatsoever, Stilinski? If you’re desperate to remain a social outcast please do continue discussing picture books loudly and in front of large crowds, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t drag my friends down with you.” Jackson threw Danny a disgusted look as he finished his sentence. 

“My father raised me to show a great appreciation and understanding of fine art and literature, Jackson, and to always promote discussion and debate. Much as yours taught you to show a great appreciation of yourself, and promote nausea in others” Stiles replied smoothly, before sweeping around his bench and heading towards the ingredients cupboard. His suave exit was unfortunately compromised by a spare stool next to his bench, inconveniently placed in his path. As Stiles clutched at his knee and bent to pick up the bowl he had dropped, he heard Jackson’s familiar mocking chuckle.

“Honestly Stilinski, I have no idea how you even make it down the stairs to the dungeons so frequently without falling to your death” he laughed.

“And I have no idea how you make it through doors without your head getting stuck, but there are some questions we’ll never be able to answer my friend.”

“Friend? Don’t make me laugh. Just because you’ve taken to following Danny around like a lovesick puppy do not expect me to start wasting any more of my precious time on you. In fact, I’m embarrassed to have been seen talking to you for this long.”

At that Stiles felt the dull burn in his cheeks roar into a fire, and was horrified when his mind was too busy screaming in embarrassment to form any kind of comeback. He somehow forced his legs to move and stumbled to the cupboard, slamming the door behind him and leaning his head against the cool metal.

Having taken a moment to compose himself he grabbed the ingredients he needed along with some mandrake root, took a deep breath and strolled casually back into the classroom and towards his bench, where he was still not quite able to meet Danny’s eye. As he passed Jackson’s seat he slipped his hand into the pocket of his robes and removed the mandrake, thrusting it quickly into the cauldron before taking a seat behind his own.

The resulting explosion was a satisfying if unsubtle revenge, and was on balance worth the two Saturday detentions Stiles was assigned by Professor Argent as a result. The creepy potions master was usually much more harsh (Stiles had expected a deduction of at least 50 house points), but luckily there were no witnesses to the crime and he was only able to dole out his punishment on a hunch. Which was odd, given that Danny had been directly behind Jackson, and Stiles had been horribly aware of his gaze on him as he returned to his seat. Perhaps he needed glasses, he mused.

 

Both Stiles’ line of thought and Argent’s continued rant about classroom safety were interrupted by, surprisingly enough, an earthquake. 

Hogwarts was hardly a frequent victim of earth tremors, and the reaction of low level panic this one inspired was arguably out of proportion. As the castle shook Professor Argent yelled instructions over the ensuing din, telling the class to head upstairs immediately and gather on the lawn in case of a collapse. As the dungeons emptied around him Stiles quietly packed a few supplies (‘borrowed’ from the cupboard) into his bag, and followed the stream of students upstairs and out of the castle into the ground.

Here he was met by a loud and confused crowd, from which he could already hear several separate theories beginning to develop. 

“There is no way this is natural, we’re not on a fault line. Maybe someone caused a magical disturbance and the environment is rebelling.”

“It could be nucleur bomb. We would feel the vibrations here even if it went off in Europe. Oh my god, my family could be dead!”

“What if it’s an attack. Hogwarts can’t handle another battle, it’s only just been rebuilt after the last one!”

_“I heard that an earthquake is the first sign of the Apocalypse”._

It is this last comment, from a girl he recognized as a Hufflepuff third year, which drew Stiles’ attention. He left his lofty perch on the castle steps and bounced down to where she was stood, surrounded by a group of around 10 friends.

“That’s true.” He said gravely, inserting himself into the circle with downcast eyes and a worried expression. “I’ve been reading about the Mayan predictions. I thought it was all nonsense, obviously, but then this happens.” He looked around at the nervous faces watching him, and realized the group had expanded to 15 or so. “I mean, there’s never been an earthquake in this part of the world as far as I know.”

“I know about Apocalyptic signs!” Piped up a Ravenclaw student Stiles didn’t recognize. “I’ve been reading about them too, ever since my last Divination lesson. What I saw in my tea leaves, it...” She paused, looking uncomfortable when she realized how many people were listening, before continuing. “Well lets just say it scared me. And I wasn’t surprised at all when the castle started to shake. In fact...” She paused for dramatic effect. “I predicted it.”

 _Did you now_ nodded Stiles, who had been scanning the crowd whilst she spoke in search of his friends. Some minutes ago he had caught sight of Scott deep in conversation with Jessica, who looked as if she was stifling a giggle. Then Isaac and Michelle appeared from a separate corner of the castle, catching Stiles’ eye and throwing him a thumbs up.

“I must go” Stiles excused himself to the younger students, “but I want to hear more about your Divination class at some point. It sounds important, like it could explain this whole thing!” This last part was yelled loudly over his shoulder as he walked over to meet his friends, and he was pleased when he saw several people overhear and shuffle closer to the Ravenclaw girl, who was now holding court with hushed tones and a serious expression.

“Well??” Asked Stiles under his breath when he reached Isaac and Michelle. “I mean, nice work guys, did everything go to plan?”

“The squid hit me in the face with a tentacle.” Michelle was scowling as she said it, and pointed at her wet fringe as evidence. Stiles turned his laugh into a sympathetic grimace and patted her arm gently, turning to Isaac.

“But the potion worked?”

“Long enough for us to get it to shake the castle and hit the ground a bit. That wasn’t enough though, we’re lucky you managed to persuade Grawp that jumping up and down with sea creatures is fun way to spend an afternoon. Also, only one side of the castle felt it - everyone in the West facing classes is still sitting down oblivious. And hiding giants in a hurry is NOT EASY.”

“Doesn’t matter” Stiles grinned. “So long as Grawp gets back to the forest without being seen, this is gonna spread like wildfire. And my tea leaves spell? Worked like a charm, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Isaac offered him a high five “You know, when you first suggested this idea, I thought you’d gone mad. But now I’m starting to believe we really are capable of convincing the entire school that the world is going to end on Halloween.”

“Oh, ye of little faith” Stiles scolded, positioning himself between his two friends and throwing an arm around each of them as they walked back to join the rest of their class. “Just wait until the Halloween feast - it’s going to be _spectacular._

  
\------------------------------------  


The first Quidditch match of the year featured Hufflepuff against Gryffindor, and as a result was surprisingly relaxed for Scott and the rest of the team. Between Allison Argent, Derek Hale and new addition Teddy Lupin (who may be young but was rumoured to train with the Potter family themselves), expectations were pleasantly low for the team in yellow.

The day of the match found Stiles in his usual spot, seated in the commentary box above the stands. Preferring not to sit on his own next to the heads of houses for the duration of the game, last year he had begun roping Jessica in as backup. She was now seated to his right, examining her freckles in a compact mirror and paying little to no attention to her surroundings.

As the stands began to fill with excited students and bored looking staff, Stiles watched his friends and housemates assemble an absurdly large SCOTT MCCALL sign, which featured a terrifyingly accurate portrait of the man himself. Sadly, Stiles had been omitted from the banner construction session (due to many hours spent in the forest bribing Grawp to do his bidding with food from the kitchens), and the sign consequently lacked a witty rhyming slogan. He made a mental note to get more involved before the next match.

With only minutes to go before the players entered the pitch, Stiles allowed his gaze to wander over to the Slytherin seats where he saw Danny sitting with some 1st year students. Judging by their lack of Quidditch memorabilia and excited expressions, they were most likely muggleborn. They listened eagerly as Danny chatted and pointed to the goal posts and marks on the pitch, seemingly explaining the rules of the game. Danny was nice. 

The scene was somewhat ruined by Jackson barging into the seat next to Danny’s, shooting the younger students a glare and dragging Lydia behind him. It was only then that Stiles realized he hadn’t noticed they were late. In fact, he hadn’t looked for Lydia at all.

 

A sharp jab in his right hand side drew Stiles’ attention to Jessica, who pointed towards Professor McGonagall. She threw an irritated look at Stiles and held up two fingers, indicating the number of minutes until the players left their dressing rooms and lined up on the pitch. Scrambling to gather his thoughts and find the switch for his microphone, Stiles cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

 

“Gooood afternoon ladies, gentlemen and everything in between. Welcome to the return of Hogwarts’ finest tradition - the annual Quidditch cup. For those of you joining us this year or suffering from amnesia, the title of ‘Champions’ is currently held by Gryffindor, headed up this year as usual by the _illustrious_ Derek Hale. If you’re new to the game keep an eye on beater Allison Argent, she has a fondness for exhibitionism and can keep even the casual Quidditch fan entertained for hours. And she’s a talented flyer too!”

Jessica sniggered, McGonogall did not.

“I’d like to apologize in advance for any inappropriate language which may slip through our censors over the course of todays match -” (McGonogall remained stoney faced) “-as I am personally invested in today’s showdown, and have _occasionally_ been known to display some bias under extreme duress.”

Catching sight of the four heads of houses and head teacher glaring at him in a threatening manner, Stiles rushed to clarify.

“But obviously a repeat performance of last years cup final is CERTAINLY off the cards and none of you need to worry about writing home to your parents to report anything which may or may not have been said in the heat of the moment, no siree.”

Relief washed over Stiles as he saw the doors to the dressing rooms open and the two teams file out onto the pitch, led by Oliver Wood, the head of sport.

“Lets meet the teams shall we! In the red corner we have defending champions Gryffindor...” Stiles began reeling off names automatically, throwing in the odd compliment about neat robes or special talents for any players who looked particularly nervous.

“I’m sure at least 50% of our audience today will have noticed that captain and new head boy Derek Hale has changed his haircut since we last saw him take to the skies, if you’d like to give feedback on his new look I’m sure he’ll be accepting comments and suggestions at dinner this evening. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to keep you updated on whether he is looking particularly windswept or smoldering over the course of play, so don’t worry about missing anything if you get distracted by the actual game!”

Jessica’s smothered laughs were beginning to be picked up by the microphone, so Stiles decided he should move on to his own house team regardless of how entertaining he found Derek’s furious expression and gritted jaw.

“The most important thing you need to know about Hufflepuff is that they are bloody brilliant.” Stiles ignored McGonogall’s exasperated sigh and ploughed onwards. “The second most important thing is Scott McCall is playing today everyone! Doesn’t he look great? _Someone’s_ been working out over summer!”

Scott’s reaction to Stiles’ shower of compliments was decidedly more positive than Derek’s, and he raised his broom aloft proudly as he waved to the yellow clad portion of the crowd (all of whom were screaming and cheering enthusiastically).

Eventually Wood grew tired of Stiles’ in depth analysis of each Hufflepuff player and why they were excellent people, and cut him off by blowing the whistle. Fearing slightly that he might lose his job (and consequently his only social standing), Stiles chose to narrate events with minimal personal commentary from then on. 

When a time out of fifteen minutes is called, Hufflepuff were unsurprisingly down 30 points and team captain Marlow had a shiny new black eye, curtesy of a well aimed Argent Bludger. 

How Allison managed to pay attention to the match between her flips and tricks was a mystery, but an admirable one, and Stiles found himself unusually sympathetic towards Scott’s plight as he watched her zoom straight through all three goal hoops on her descent to the pitch. He resolved to squeeze in some positive Scott anecdotes in the second half, perhaps something involving babies or puppies.

In the meantime, however, he had more important things to attend to. Once all the players had landed on the pitch for a pep talk from their captains, Stiles and Jessica slipped quietly away from their seats and sprinted down the stairs and out of the stadium. There they were greeted by Isaac, Michelle and Beth, who were holding hands in a triangle formation. 

Slipping in between the two girls, Stiles grabbed their hands and placed his wand on the ground between them.

“Hows it going?” he whispered, glancing up at the sky.

“All seems to be adhering to the plan so far” whispered Michelle. “We’ll have to be quick though if we only have you two for a few minutes. I still don’t think five of us will be strong enough to pull this off.”

“Pfft”, dismissed Stiles, before lowering his head and nodding to his friends to do the same.

 

Ten minutes of murmured chanting later, Stiles grabbed his wand and sprinted back towards the stairs, telling Jessica to stay behind and help out. He arrived back at his seat with moments to spare, and promptly launched into a comparison between the racing brooms the players were riding now, and the old training broom Scott had once used to rescue a kitten from a burning building. 

 

20 minutes later Hufflepuff were a dismal 70 points down and had just given away a penalty shot, when darkness descended upon the castle grounds. The entire stadium turned their heads upwards in surprise, to see the sun had been blocked in what Stiles announced over the speakers to be “an unprecedented solar eclipse”.

  
\----------------------  


One week after the eclipse incident, Professor McGonogall stood up before dinner was served and announced to the school that they had discovered the spell which had created an umbrella effect over the school, blocking the sun. She explained that only a small portion of the grounds had been effected, and the spell had essentially worked by forming a large barrier in the sky directly above the Quidditch pitch. She swore to trace the source of the trick to the perpetrator, and deal with them accordingly.

The students seemed to have their fears temporarily assuaged, and as they ate discussion of the various bad omens Divination students had been Seeing over the past few weeks filled the hall. Many were willing to dismiss the sightings of Grims, fire and blackness and attribute them to back to school nerves, or misreadings. 

That was, until the entire Ravenclaw table (who sat closest to the windows looking out onto the grounds) leapt out of their seats and let out a collective cry before running for the doors. 

Outside, hurtling towards the castle at speed, were an assortment of magical creatures in every size and shape. As the Forbidden Forest emptied itself of it’s inhabitants and the Great Hall emptied itself of students, Stiles remained seated. He smirked to himself and made a mental note to buy Grawp and Firenze particularly impressive thank you presents upon his next visit to Hogsmeade, before exiting the hall and heading upstairs towards the Hufflepuff common room. 

On his way he passed Derek Hale, who seemed surprisingly unpanicked and was heading out of the building to join the members of staff currently herding the various creatures in the grounds back towards the forest. As he passed Stiles he slowed and made eye contact, raising one eyebrow in an unfamiliar expression Stiles would almost describe as amused.

  
\-----------------------  


The day of the Halloween Feast arrived in suitably awful weather, and Stiles was thrilled to see the sky darken and begin to bleed rain as the sun set. Beautifully atmospheric.

After consulting at length with Isaac, Michelle, Beth and Jessica, he felt confident this evenings events would run smoothly. The only glitch in the plan was the stomach clenching guilt Stiles felt whenever he thought of Scott - who had remained oblivious to all of their activities and even been a victim of a rigged crystal ball in Divination. 

As it turned out, Scott was the perfect accidental ally to their cause. His brilliantly gullible mind had immediately drawn the worst conclusions about the four horsemen who appeared before him in their Tuesday class. His sincere puppy dog expression that afternoon at lunch as he related the story would have been hilarious without the guilt it inspired, but luckily seeing Scott so obviously concerned about events inadvertently left Stiles off the hook for most of the school. It seemed no one would dream of accusing him if Scott McCall was genuinely worried, and as no one else at school was capable of pulling off such an elaborate prank the general student population left their common rooms for the evening feast that day amidst muttered concerns and muted intrigue.

On their way downstairs the Hufflepuff boys discussed Scott’s progress with Allison, and concluded that although enemy ground had yet to be breached the thoughtful gifts and kind words were beginning to wear down her defenses. Secretly, Stiles had noticed Allison’s bright eyed smile whenever she laid eyes on his friend, and was surprised they had not yet made their romance official. Scott’s constant worrying and brand new (terrifying) propensity to over think things seemed to be holding him back. 

 

As they entered the Great Hall Stiles considered how to compensate for excluding his oldest and dearest friend from their hour of glory, and resolved to play matchmaker with Allison wherever possible. Passing the Gryffindor table he veered slightly to the left, leaning over to catch the brunette’s attention. 

“Allison my dear, I hate to interrupt your meal but wanted to offer you an apology. I realize that sometimes my brand of humour can be a little obtuse to the uninitiated, and it has been pointed out to me by my good friend and life coach Scott” - at this he grabbed Scott by the shoulders and drew him in under his arm - “that I may have offended you during our last Quidditch match.” He pauses. “And arguably every match I’ve commentated on.”

Allison laughed and waved away his apology, assuring him that she has never been offended. She then slid her eyes over to Scott, offering him a small, kind eyed smile.

“Thank you, though. For thinking of me.”

As Scott’s mouth fell into his best gormless fish impression, Stiles threw Allison a broad smile and went to steer his friend towards their own table before his inability to form words became obvious.

“Where’s my apology?”

 

The voice came from along the table to Stiles’ left, and when he turned his head he found himself face to face with Derek Hale. Derek gazed at him expectantly over his goblet of pumpkin juice, whilst on either side of him Erica and Boyd did little to hide their smirks.

“Excuse me?”

“My apology. I had to fend off ‘helpful feedback’ from at least 23 students after our last game.” His expression slid into a frown at the memory.

“I’m not sure ‘I love it, it’s perfect, you look great’ counts as constructive criticism” offered Erica. “Although there was that one girl who said she preferred your hair longer. Maybe you should take a poll.”

Stiles was both surprised and impressed that she didn’t retreat to cowering under the table at the look Derek gave her in response.

“Yes, well..” he stuttered, “Sorry about that. I’ll try and keep the audience participation to a minimum in the future.” As he finished speaking, Stiles was already backing away to where Isaac and the girls had retreated.

Before he could escape, however, Boyd spoke for what could to Stiles’ knowledge have been the first time in recorded history.

“So I hear the world is ending. Tonight.” All three of the most-intimidating-clique-ever fixed Stiles with an intense gaze, with Derek’s eyes meeting his across the table.

“Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Stiles?” asked the head boy innocently, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Panicking, Stiles flailed his arms and desperately tried to form words.

“Well, if it is” he finally managed, “I’m sure Your Highness can’t be too concerned about meeting your maker. With your perfect track record I’m sure you’ll get priority seating in heaven. I’m sorry that not all of us can meet your absurdly high standards” Stiles snarled, flouncing away with the vague awareness that he was making very little sense, but for some reason irrationally annoyed by the senior prefect’s interference with his plans.

He glanced back only briefly, and saw Derek looking down at his plate. If he didn’t know any better, he would say he looked hurt.

 

At the Hufflepuff table, things were a lot less tense. Isaac had never looked so smug, which Stiles figured was to be expected if their prank went to plan. He did keep throwing knowing glances between Stiles and the Gryffindor table though. Perhaps he approved of Stiles’ improvised ‘Make Scott Look Like A Nice Person’ move.

 

They were halfway through their meal when everything fell into place. Jessica’s clever glamour enchantment made the sky, depicted in the ceiling of the Great hall, appear considerably more stormy than it really was outside. When lightning began crackling below the ceiling and down towards the tables, the students began shifting uncomfortably in their seats. This only increased with the audible thunder. 

When clouds started to descend towards the ground and actual water falling from the sky, the state of confusion and mild panic was enough that no one noticed Stiles and Beth muttering under their breath and pointing their wands upwards towards the ceiling.

A well timed fire charm from Isaac caused all of the candles in the hall to roar into foot tall flames. Along with Michelle’s simultaneous and piercingly loud scream, it was enough to send most of the younger classes into chaos.

Suits of armour lifted out of their static positions in the alcoves and began chasing students and staff towards the exits, and the rain began falling more heavily as Jessica joined in with Stiles’ spell. 

He took advantage of the brief reprieve to grab Scott’s arm, spinning him round from where he was looking horrorstruck at the sky above him to meet his eyes.

“Scott. If it really is the end of the world, this is your last chance to tell Allison how you feel.”

Scott stared at him intently for one moment then turned with Stiles to seek out the Gryffindor girl across the room. With one brief, determined smile, Scott leapt out of his seat and bounded across the hall.

Unfortunately, Stiles couldn’t hear what was said over the screaming from the younger students and laughter from the older ones, who had cottoned on as soon as they glanced towards Stiles’ group and saw them sitting unfazed in their seats, wands out. 

He could use his eyes well enough, however, and felt the guilt in his chest ease slightly when Scott and Allison fell into each other’s arms in the rain.

The hall began to empty as panicked crowds headed for the doors, and Stiles dropped his wand and shook his dripping wet robes in front of him as he finally allowed himself to laugh. He was still trying to move from the table, over which Isaac, Michelle, Beth and Jessica were all creased in hysterics, when he felt a firm and slightly painful grip on his shoulder.

Slowly he turned his head to meet the cold eyes and humourless smile of Gerard Argent, who looked between Stiles and his wand with something of a triumphant expression.

Stiles cowered in his seat waving his hand at his friends surreptitiously behind his back. They took the hint and fled, but luckily Professor Argent seemed focused on Stiles alone.

Creep.

“I think we’ll have to increase your hour long detention on Saturday to two hours, don’t you Mr. Stilinski? And instead of two weeks, shall we say... The rest of the year?”

Stiles’ heart sunk, and he was desperately trying to think up a plausible alibi when they were interrupted by the Headmistress herself. Great.

“Excellent idea, Gerard!” She enthused. Oddly, she didn’t look angry.

“The earthquake was an inspired touch, Mr. Stilinski. And using the Giant Squid for your own nefarious ends, well!” She paused to chuckle and wipe the rain from her glasses.

“Gerard here realized you must have been behind our recent unusual events when he discovered traces of Alihotsy Draught in todays pumpkin juice. That explains the slight hysteria in some of our more easily swayed students. May I ask how you managed to control the squid?” 

Realizing there was little chance of him blagging his way out of this one, Stiles looked at his feet and muttered his reply.

“Unctuous Unction - a special blend to work on magical creatures. Made it think I was it’s best friend.”

No need to drag Isaac into this, he reasoned. So long as Gerard didn’t put two and two together and realize Stiles had been in class at the time of the earthquake, his friends could still escape punishment.

“Very advanced stuff I must say, but it really isn’t polite to terrify our younger students with such activities Mr. Stilinski.”

“I did make a lot of calming draft?” he offered hopefully. “It’s in the fountain in the entrance hall - I added little signs telling people to drink a cup before they went to bed.”

McGonogall’s expression softened, and she paused for a moment seeming to consider her options.

“Well, I’m afraid I have to agree with Professor Argent. Two hours detention every Saturday for the rest of the year seems entirely reasonable. And no Hogsmeade privileges, obviously.”

Stiles gaped.

“I think in light of the nature of your crime, your talents should be put to appropriate use. And you do have a lot of work to do to make sure those poor children ever trust us again. Professor Argent, isn’t there a remedial potions session on Saturday afternoons for first and second year students?”

Argent scowled, and nodded his confirmation.

“Excellent! You can assist Derek Hale every weekend and share your expertise with those who need it most. Please stop by my office tomorrow afternoon to go over the details and your duties. Until then, you are free to go Stiles.”

  
\-----------------------  


Stiles found his friends waiting for him in the entrance hall, where they were distributing cups of Calming Draught amongst the more shaky looking students, pausing occasionally to thank those offering their congratulations and admiration on a prank well done.

As he crossed the room to meet them, Stiles felt a hand grip his elbow. He turned to find Danny smiling at him, and Lydia on the other side of him.

“Nice work man. Hope they weren’t too vicious with the punishments?” Danny looked sympathetic, and Stiles realized his hand was still loosely holding his arm.

“A year of weekend detentions. No Hogsmeade. Much exposure to irritating children and Derek Hale.” Stiles scowled.

Danny laughed and opened his mouth to speak, when Jackson appeared at Lydia’s side.

“Can we leave please?” He bit out. “These morons are driving me insane. I can’t believe they fell for such an obvious ruse.” Jacksons mocking tone matched his eyes as they dragged down and then up Stiles’ body with a disgusted expression.

“Got to rush back and fix your hair, Jackson? Sorry about the rain, I’ll try and warn you to bring an umbrella next time.”

Jackson snarled and swept away, dragging Danny and Lydia with him. 

As they disappeared up the stairs, Isaac appeared at his side. They congratulated each other on their success, and both noted that Scott was nowhere to be seen and hadn’t even paused to tell them how hurt he was at being kept in the dark. 

Allison, too, was noticeably missing.

“Seriously though, I can’t believe we pulled it off” Isaac laughed. “Those suits of armour were a touch of genius, man. When did you find the time to work that one out?”

Stiles was confused. “I thought you did the armour? I was about to ask you!”

Isaac’s blank expression threw him for a loop. 

“Must have been one of the girls. They’re probably upstairs now laughing at us for not figuring it out sooner”, Stiles reasoned.

“Must be.” Isaac agreed, as they headed towards the stairs, breaking only occasionally to shake the hand of an adoring fan.

As they reached the foot of the stairwell, Stiles noticed three familiar figures gathered under an arch. They seemed to be laughing together, but were too far away for him to make out what they were saying.

He allowed Isaac to drag him away, turning as they headed upwards to glance once again at the celebrated Gryffindor trio. It was only then that he noticed Erica clutching what looked like a metal glove in her hand. As she shifted her wight onto her left foot, Stiles’ view was slightly less obstructed. He stared across the hall at Derek Hale, who’s face was split in a genuine beaming smile as he laughed with his friends. Even more surprising was the silver helmet, stolen from one of the suits of armour and tucked neatly under his arm.


End file.
